Fall From the Moon (A Bánalfar Novel Book 1)

by CS Hale

  I MIGHT HAVE been the fulfillment of a prophecy, but I was still an outsider. It was there in the looks that most of the inhabitants of the castle gave me. There weren’t many that I spent time with as I slowly settled into a pattern. Daria brought me breakfast, laced me into my dress for the day, then watched, occasionally giggling as I tried to learn my way around the warren of rooms and passageways that made up the High, as the castle was known (the town was known as the Low), ready to help me find a way back to familiar ground. Afternoons rotated — Padrid with his history lessons and Valemar for trade or politics.

  I spent no time in the company of women other than Daria, which was fine by me. I hated their whisperings and looks of distrust. Padrid grew to overlook my dark brown hair and strange ears, but generations of viewing the Cordair as dangerous beings meant many of the people were wont to lump me there as well. And it probably didn’t help that it was widely known that Valemar didn’t share my bed.

  He’d made no overtures toward me since the second night of our marriage. The first few afternoons had started awkward, though my questions transformed him into the statesman, eager to talk about the lands and people he loved. He was cordial at dinner but either oblivious to the whispers around the banqueting room or indifferent to stopping them. From the looks of hatred Zhanet still threw me, I didn’t think Valemar was sharing her bed, either.

  I put off instruction with the Mödatal as long as possible, but after seven days, I knew I really needed to include her. For my visit, Daria and I donned long, red veils and walked to the Cair in the company of Heymond and one of the castle guards. I could have had her come to me, but I thought it best to be seen trying to fit in.

  The inhabitants of the Low surely knew who we were for there weren’t any other women from the High who went about with armed guards. It was my first chance to see the town properly, without the crowds lining the streets and a star chart fixed in my mind.

  I’d studied medieval and tech-young Earth one year as a prep for my customs course. Aedenfal reminded me of those early maps I’d studied, before the ease of transportation and communication turned the cities inside out — the wealthy abandoning the centers of town to the poor. The homes and businesses closest to the High were large and well maintained. Both were adorned with flowers and displays meant to catch the eye and please the nose. The size of the buildings as shrank we traveled farther away. The homes and businesses became modest, but still clean. There were no homeless inside Aedenfal.

  “There are always those who don’t want to work,” Daria explained when I asked. “You’ll usually find them loitering around the taverns. But there is plenty in Bánalfar. There is always something to do, some way to earn coin.”

  “And those who can’t work?” I asked.

  Her head jerked toward me, a flash of red veil. “But everyone can work,” she said. “Unless they’re ill, everyone can work.”

  “So only those who are in hospital don’t work.”

  “Hospital?” Daria asked.

  “A place for the ill. When you’re so sick you need constant medical care.”

  “Why wouldn’t they be at home?” She sounded incredulous.

  “When you’re very ill and you need constant nursing care and attention from the doctors.”

  “But surely your family or servants could nurse you best.” Her head shook from side to side. “Sounds awful.”

  “On the moon, doctors and nurses get specialized training in how to treat and cure illnesses. They’re much better prepared to help the ill than the sick person’s family members.” And they had tools, such as the repbots currently flowing through my blood, but I didn’t share that with her.

  “Like Ferrick.”

  “Yes, like Ferrick. But you’d go to him so he could watch over several ill people at the same time.”

  “Hmm. I guess that would be more efficient.” She still sounded doubtful, and by this time we’d come up the rise that the Cair stood on and to the great doors that marked its entrance. Heymond had the other soldier stay outside while he followed us in.

  Again, I was struck by the height inside the cathedral and fascinated by the patterns the stained glass windows cast on the walls and floor. Daria led me into an alcove where we lit small red tapers and added them to the nearly hundred already burning in tiers of sand-filled trays.

  We walked past a side chapel where a few people, both men and veiled women, knelt in prayer. The gasps that issued as we passed told me that not all of them were focused on their devotions. Daria opened a wooden door halfway down the sanctuary toward the altar.

  “I’ll wait for you here,” Heymond said, inclining his head, and took up a post against the wall by the door.

  We went down a hall lined with wooden doors. A tall candelabra sat at the bend, thick yellow candles guttering in the drafts. Daria went three doors down beyond the corner and knocked on the door to the right.

  “Enter.”

  “I’ll leave you here,” Daria said with a bow. “Come find me in the sanctuary when you’re ready to leave.” She backed away then turned and disappeared around the corner. I sucked my breath in and made myself turn the knob.

  The Mödatal sat on a low sofa arranged at a right angle to a fireplace in which a fire blazed even though the weather was warm. “My queen,” she said, and dipped her head. She gestured to the matching sofa across from her. “Tea?” she asked as I took my seat.

  “Yes, thank you.”

  It was warm by the fire, but goosebumps crawled across my arms, making me wish I’d brought a shawl. I clasped my hands in my lap to keep from trying to rub away the signs of my unease.

  The Mödatal handed me a steaming cup. The aroma that wafted up was woodsy. It had a smoky flavor, unsweetened, but not unpleasant. She gave me a cat-like smile and curled her bare feet up next to her. “So you’ve come for religious instruction?”

  I blew on the tea to cool it, having learned that such an action was not an insult. “I’m not sure what your religious beliefs are here.”

  “We worship Father Sea and Mother Moon.” The Mödatal picked up her own cup, an action I found reassuring for I had wondered with that smile of hers if she’d doctored the tea. “All life comes from the sea, but without the Mother who creates the tides and pulls us toward her, there would be no procreation. The sea would never change and would stagnate. There would be no rhythm and no life. But you know this, for it is true on your world, too.”

  The hairs on my arms stood up, adding to the prickly feeling that crawled over me. “For some species,” I said.

  “And what do you worship?” she asked. There was a challenging glint in her eye.

  Religion wasn’t a daily part of my life though I had grown up going to church. I’d been so many places and seen so many things that I found the effort to define God somewhat limiting. Each culture sought to put the idea in a box they could understand. But it was bigger than that. When one spent so much time out in the stars, in the utter vastness and void of space, you came to realize that there was something about the universe itself that wanted life. Within the emptiness, it was created over and over again. Life that was more familiar than foreign. Something, someone craved relationship, and even I could feel it.

  “Connection,” I said.

  “Yet you also fear it.”

  I blushed, thinking she was speaking of my empty bed.

  “That as well,” the Mödatal added, as if she’d read my mind. “We worship life and the forces that create it. Are in awe of the forces that create it. It has a power here that you have lost on your world … for you have too much light.” My eyes widened.

  The Mödatal sipped her tea. “Our moonlight is half-light. So much dimmer than the day,” she continued. “Not a white stone in the sky, but a ruby. And its blood pulls on our blood more than yours does.” Her eyes met mine, and I knew that she did not believe I was from the moon.

  “You told Valemar I was the Moon Princess.”

  “You are the Moon Pr
incess.” Her eyes held nothing but certainty. “You are the daughter of kings, are you not?”

  My heart fell into my stomach. This woman knew things about me she shouldn’t. “Yes,” I whispered. The hairs on my arms became like porcupine quills. What was she that she could divine these things?

  The Mödatal laughed, a light, tinkling laugh. “I’m no outsider like you. You know what I am.” It had barely begun in the back of my mind, the wondering that maybe she too was from the stars. And somehow, she knew perceived even that. “I am a seer.”

  “But the prophecy is four hundred years old.”

  “Yet I saw you coming. How else would Heymond have known where to be? If not for me, you’d be with the Cordair right now.” I shivered. “Yes, you would have gotten a much different reception from them.”

  “But I can’t do what you or Valemar want me to do.”

  The Mödatal sipped her tea again. “And what is that?”

  “An army! Valemar wants an army.”

  She met my gaze over her cup. “You have an army. But the time isn’t right.”

  I fought back the urge to scream. “And I suppose you know when that time is?”

  “Um.” She swallowed her latest sip. “No. But it’s out there.” She fixed me with a hard stare. “You weren’t out there until nineteen days ago. Mind the tea,” she added as my hands went slack and the cup nearly slipped from my grasp. The Palmas Cove had entered the system nineteen days ago.

  I lifted my cup and gulped, wanting to fill myself with something other than the sensation that things were wildly out of control.

  “People come to the Cair on their own most of the month. For sanctuary. To light a candle,” the Mödatal went on as if most of our conversation hadn’t happened. “The Cair will be crowded the morning of the resting moon with people seeking the Möd’s blessing and to offer prayers that the Blood Moon has created life.” A wistful expression settled on her face. “They come to be part of a community. Your role as queen is to be part of that community.”

  “They don’t trust me,” I said, and stared into my now-empty cup.

  “You are not what they expected.”

  “I am dark.”

  “They fear the darkness of the Cordair, but you are dark like the moon.”

  “The moon is red,” I said.

  “Yes, ours is no pearl. Or diamond light in the sky. Pale, as Valemar and his ancestors are sun-washed pale. Like yours were. But you are dark like our moon, for our resting moon is dark. And from the moon you have come.” She offered me her first real smile. “They will see that in time.”

  Despite the Mödatal’s scarily accurate information and insistence that I was supposed to be here, it was hard to wrap my brain around the idea. I thought about it on the mile or more walk back to the High. I was no savior. I’d survived the plasma leak simply because I was holed up in my cabin going over another file.

  Think, Astrid! If this wasn’t a ‘no contact’ planet, what would you be doing?

  Daria walked silently next to me, allowing me to be lost in my reflection.

  Finding a way to call for help. Not an option here.

  Imagine you had been left behind on Reggi Five after the drinking game with the Nortani delegation. My head pounded in memory of the hangover. What would you have done?

  Find a way to transmit a signal. Loneliness washed over me, digging its needle claws into my heart. I’d always been part of something. I’d never not had an out.

  I bit my lip as the thought crossed my mind — I should have just drunk myself to oblivion and gone on the journey into the sun with the rest of the crew. I wasn’t supposed to be here.

  But you are here. You chose life.

  I had. And I’d done it again when Valemar had offered his protection. But the expectations chafed. I’d anticipated having to struggle to blend in, butI hadn’t considered that someone might hand me a role. Especially one that was so not who I was at my core.

  You were practically a statesman, the voice in my head argued. Isn’t that what they’re asking you to do?

  No. It was a whole lot more. But I could start there. Despite my misgivings, the Mödatal seemed to be an ally. She didn’t have a timetable, had repeatedly told me to be patient.

  I started my list of what to do next. One — ask Valemar for a task, something I could actually do. Despite all the changes in Europe and Asia over the last five hundred years, there were still kings and queens on thrones. The countries that didn’t have them changed with every whim of the populace. Countries like England, Sweden, and Japan had changed, too, but there was pride in being rooted in something so ancient. Royals were important touchstones for their populaces. I needed to find a way to integrate myself into the Alfari.

  Step number two I pushed away. It was one I wasn’t ready to take. The rest of it would ultimately hinge upon it, but I wanted to claim the last bit of me while I still could.

  And then I reviewed my list of allies. Valemar — who counted only because he believed I was the Moon Princess. The Mödatal — for the same reason.

  I watched Heymond striding along in front of Daria and me, hand on the hilt of his sword, just in case. Mo banorisa. He, too, believed I was the Moon Princess. All of them did. I had allies only because of a lie.

  I sighed. My life was a house of cards that one breath could collapse.

  ###

  I had Daria lace me into a deep red gown that evening. The moon was growing fuller, bathing Bánalfar and all the lands of Teridun Four in a red glow similar to that used by militaries all around the galaxy to illuminate their ships at night. I’d once asked why and had been told that red has a longer wave length and less energy so it doesn’t travel very far. It doesn’t light up the sky. It also doesn’t degrade your night vision like white light does. So Teridun’s moon allowed its creatures better access to the dark. All of them but me.

  The Mödatal was right about one thing. Laced into the blood-red dress with my dark hair flowing past my shoulders, I did look a lot like the nearly full moon in the sky.

  Our visit to the Cair had not gone unnoticed. When I entered the dining hall that evening, I watched them take in my dress and my hair. I held myself like a queen, and when their eyes met mine, it was with grudging respect and a dip of their heads. Valemar tried to mask his longing, but I could feel his desire washing over me even when his attention was focused on his plate.

  Zhanet followed our every move. There was no hatred in her eyes tonight, though she ground her teeth. Her gaze traveled from an appraisal of me, to Valemar’s suffering, and back again. When our eyes met, she smirked. It’s only a matter of time, her smile seemed to say.

  I ran my thumb along the scab on my index finger. How long could I keep Valemar from my bed before it turned out to be too long?

  I wandered the next day, proud that I was finally beginning to learn the twisting passageways that made up the non-public halls of the High. I’d left Daria behind, determined to venture where I hadn’t gone before, willing to become hopelessly lost.

  I was about half an hour into my wanderings. These areas of the castle seemed little used. Empty. Quiet. So it was easy for me to hear the whisper of fabric, the quiet shuffle of feet in quick movements. The hiss of something cutting the air.

  His back was to me when I crept down the short passageway that led to the room. But he froze, aware that he was no longer alone. Then the movements began again. The ballet of kata. His hands moved almost too fast to see — a curved sword in one hand and a wicked looking knife in the other. My impression of how lethal Valemar was was absolutely justified. I couldn’t imagine anything standing against him and still live.

  I backed away and left him to his practice. My hand trailed against the stone as I continued down the corridor for I found it hard to keep my balance. Valemar could slit my throat and I’d never see it coming. But instead, his blade was mine. I just needed to claim it.

  THE FULL MOON, or Blood Moon as the Alfari called it, arrived. I’d b
een on Teridun Four for thirteen days, in the star system for almost twice that. My mind was elsewhere, wondering what my family was going through, when Daria asked me to raise my arms and lowered the dress over my head. It was only when she set about pulling the fabric and arranging it that I realized she wasn’t going to be lacing me into it. The dress was cut similar to the one she usually wore, but even hers was less fitted than usual.

  “It’s the traditional Blood Moon dress,” Daria said when I asked. There was a strain to her voice, and her movements were quicker than usual. “If there’s nothing else, my queen …”

  “You may go,” I said. She ducked out in a hurry.

  As I watched her go, Orin’s explanation of the full moon’s effect on the Alfari rippled up from my memory. Tonight would be a night of couplings. The Alfari are overcome with the urge to mate.

  I walked down to dinner, contemplating my safety as well as the chances I’d be greeted by an orgy. I wasn’t. Dinner was nearly its normal affair. Platters were passed around, wine was poured, but everyone’s focus was on the food. There was little conversation. I wondered if that was because the moon had not yet risen.

  Valemar’s movements were slightly drunken as I took my seat. His pupils were heavily dilated when he turned his gaze to me. On Earth, certain species only mate at the full moon, drawn to the surface of the water or into the sky by the light. Teridun’s moon apparently had the same effect on its people.

  I saw a brief flash of longing in Valemar’s eyes before he blinked and looked away. Longing, not lust. When he picked up his wine, his gaze went across the room to Zhanet. Her eyes met his, and I remembered the look she’d given me a couple of nights before. She was his moon mate. She was who he’d have been with tonight if I hadn’t been here.

  And as I watched Valemar, I realized that she was who he’d be with tonight if I did nothing. The room seethed with clamped desire.

  I’d wanted to marry for love, but I hadn’t. And even if I had, half of all marriages failed. But what was love? I love the way you make me feel. Husbands and wives changed partners when that feeling changed.